Monday is for babies, bronies, & blogs

by Beth Anne on April 15, 2013

First, let us play a round of taps for Google Reader, which was my favorite way to peruse blogs. I can still get to mine through the “app” I created on my phone & iPad, but that’s it. BlogLovin is starting to grow on me – it’s a great way to stay organized & explore new blogs. My only complaint is that it operates under a partial feed & I’m a full-feed reader. Then again, clicking over to the blogs I read is just a little “thank you” that I don’t mind giving & the partial feed forces me to do that.  You can follow this here ol’ blog by clicking this link: Follow my blog with Bloglovin

It still says “Heir to Blair” but it’s me & my current stuff.

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THANK YOU for all of your sweet comments about Damien the mother effing cyst. I read every single one & while I haven’t had the chance to reply to all of them, sharing your stories & encouragement & pissed-off-ness really helped me last week. Doug even read them on his own & they helped him, too. That’s the best thing about this little space on the internet, the chance to tell stories & make the world a little easier to handle. Right now I’m in the place where I just want the damn thing out of me. It’s all kinds of uncomfortable & now I’m more worried about rupturing the thing – I had one burst in early 2008 before I started blogging & ZERO FUN. Me, crawling on the floor & sobbing at 3am & a distended belly for a few weeks.  That was also on the right side, so now my right ovary gets the official side-eye & maybe it’s best if it comes out. I’m worried about cutting my egg count in half & fertility stuff, but I’ve talked to several friends that have gotten pregnant easily & successfully with only one ovary. So, you know. Babies in the future!

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A slight bummer in that I might be out for the sprint triathlon in mid-May. I keep reminding myself that there will be others & all my work is not for loss even if I don’t get to race. I’m not sure what the standard wait time between laparascopic surgery & intense athletic competition is, but I’m doubting it is a mere three weeks. Especially since I’ve had to back off training significantly in hopes to not rupture the damn thing before they can yank it out.

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Last week I pulled up in our driveway to see a rather distinct box sitting on our front step – a Build A Bear box. I figured it might be from a neighbor, seeing how we have some really great ones & they’re still in “welcoming committee” mode for our little family. As Doug pulled in behind me with Harry in tow, I picked up the box & noticed a shipping label from New York & rainbow hair sticking out of the windows in the box.

After reading about his love of My Little Pony, my editors at Babble sent Harry the brand-new Rainbow Dash Build A Bear.

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He opened the box one tab at a time & then just stared in with the biggest smile on his face. “This is Rainbow Dash?” he asked in awe. Then he pulled the pony out & hugged him close. He’s slept with Rainbow Dash every night since.  THANK YOU, Lindsey & Andrea & Jasmine & the rest of the Babble team!

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In further housekeeping, the stuff I’ve written on Babble lately:

We found out the hard way that Hibby is allergic to amoxicillin. Here’s a run-down on what that means & what to look out for in case it happens to you.

I did some reading on SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder).  I hope I did it justice.

Night terrors suck so hard.

My toddler reminds me of Grumpy Cat. (new brand of catfood? green peas? i’d rather link my ass for an hour.)

Teacher Appreciation Week is May 4-10. Peruse Pinterest accordingly.

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& then I remembered how many FEELINGS & THOUGHTS I have about gym locker rooms, so see you soon when that post is done!

{ 15 comments }

Happy Weekend!

by Beth Anne on April 14, 2013

edit1 edited 1 1024x768 Happy Weekend!

My weekend in one word? GOLF. Between The Masters on television & my boys swinging clubs in the backyard together, I’m odd man out. Which means I finished Stephanie Nielson’s book in less than 24 hours. I found it at TJ Maxx for $2.00 which was a gift for me & a crime for books because such a memoir should never be sold for a mere $2.00.

If you need some sunshine, come on over & I’ll make you a maple whisky & we’ll sit out on my back porch.

Until tomorrow, friends.

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This is how not pregnant I am.

by Beth Anne on April 11, 2013

Fact: ultrasounds are only fun when tiny babies with tiny heartbeats are involved.

About a month ago while on a training run with my friend Sarah, I leaned over & grabbed my uterus. “This hurts,” I wheezed. “Why would my baby-maker hurt running?”

“Cramps? Pulled muscle? Maybe you just need to pee?” she suggested.

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Last week at my yearly pelvic exam, Dr. Martin was up in my junk & I let out a yelp. “That hurts,” I said. She made a sympathetic face & kept prodding. She told me it felt “full” & that it could mean a number of things from a cyst to a full bowel. I took that opportunity to tell her that I am full of shit 99% of the time. She cracked a smile & ordered an ultrasound.

Yesterday I scooted onto the exam table in a dark room, this time without my husband or nervous flutters in my belly. “This is different from the last time I was here,” I said to the ultrasound tech. “I bet there’s nothing there. I’m kind of a hypochondriac like that.” She grinned & we talked about Harrison while she worked. I kept trying to lift up my head to see the screen, but I saw nothing as she drew lines & arrows. Without a little heartbeat & body, my uterus just looks…vast. “Ouch,” I whispered as she moved to look at my right ovary. She printed out sheet after sheet, more than I ever saw at an ultrasound for Harrison.

“It looks like a cyst,” Dr. Martin said, sitting down with my file. She spaced out her fingers – it’s a huge one. Over six centimeters in length, over four in width. My eyes grew big as my fingers held my right hip. It’s no wonder it hurts to run, to have sex, to sit for too long. We talked about the different types of cysts & she asked me if I’d ever had surgery before. Septoplasty, breast reduction, ablation, D&E for my first baby.

Add laparoscopic surgery to remove an ovarian cyst to the list come April 25th.

I’m not afraid & it should be a relatively easy procedure, but there is a high risk that I will lose my right ovary, due to the size & placement of the cyst.

Thank God for His wisdom to give me two ovaries, right? At least, that’s what I said while I cried over the phone to Doug. I never realized how attached I am to my girl parts but it turns out I am rather fond of my right ovary.

But as long as it is just a cyst, I’m going to be happy.

 cyst 1024x644 This is how not pregnant I am.

I named the cyst Damien. It seemed fitting.

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p.s. motherfuck.
p.p.s. sorry, mom & dad & church friends. i needed to say that.

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Hi. I am alive & not preg.

by Beth Anne on April 10, 2013

Usually when a blogger in her breeding years is gone for two weeks with no explanation, she pops up with a belly picture & confetti.

Sorry to disappoint. I’m not pregnant. I’m even getting an ultrasound for a cyst on my right ovary today, so I can absolutely, 100% assure you that there is no bun in the oven.

Or maybe she’s a blogger that’s been writing for five years & takes a premeditated “break” from the internet in search of inspiration & “finding” herself.

Sorry. Not that, either.

Or if it’s me, maybe you’re wondering if I’m losing my marbles again.

I’m pleased to inform you that all my marbles are there, in a straight line, & even the hamster wheel is still spinning! Thank you, sunshine & Zoloft!

Truthfully, I’ve been busy at work & Doug’s been traveling & that leaves me very little time to do anything but throw dinner on the table & throw the kid in the tub & wonder how single moms with more than one kid manage to not go crazy. Last week we bent over for the IRS & I’m still smarting from it & would rather not discuss it, thanks very much. As a result, I’ve been eating ice cream while watching 19 Kids & Counting because I find Michelle Duggar’s voice incredibly soothing at the end of a long day. True story. Home girl has a future in recording books & inspriational podcasts if procreating for television doesn’t pan out anymore.

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We spent Easter in the North Carolina mountains, drinking Cheerwine from glass bottles.

North Carolina went from 40 degrees & raining & WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, SPRING? to 85 degrees & sunny today, HELLO SUMMER.

Spring for you, Glen Coco. You go, Glen Coco! & no spring for North Carolina.

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I’m so thankful Harrison looks like his daddy since Doug is a million times better looking than me. Kid got the lucky end of the deal. Also? The hair.

He’s really interested in anatomy these days so I get a lot of questions about why I don’t have a penis & if I lost it in my bottom. As long as he doesn’t ask his teachers that, we’re golden.

Aside from the discussions over boys versus girls and whether “poopy” is an okay description for the taste of vegetables, this age is super-fun & when I’m sad that I don’t have another baby, I try to remind myself that Harry gets to be the center of my universe.

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Ah, the baby thing. I pretty much can’t log into Facebook without seeing a pregnancy announcement & while I’m thrilled for my friends, I get a little more sad each time that it’s not me. Pretty much everyone around me had a baby in 2012 or is pregnant. People are whispering & asking if we’re having trouble or if we’re even going to have another kid. I’m getting a little tired of smiling politely like it’s any of their business.

I tell myself repeatedly that people have kids 5-6-7-8 years apart all the time & it ain’t no thing.

I wish telling myself that made all the feelings go away.

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 No new news on the job front.

Womp.

But I’m taking over the international campaigns & playing in our new content management system & basically hauling ass every day per usual. I keep repeating Casey’s motto that if you work hard & are nice to people, good things will happen.

I hope.

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Oreo the Rabbit, aka Lessons in Buying Generic.

by Beth Anne on March 26, 2013

photo 764x1024 Oreo the Rabbit, aka Lessons in Buying Generic.

I don’t always have leprosy around my face while snuggling a rabbit, but when I do I make sure it’s during school pictures.

People. I barely even have words. Because it’s school picture time again & there’s livestock involved again.

You remember Peanut Butter the Pony from 2012? This time it was a pair of fluffy rabbits & I was taking bets over text message on whether or not the Hibster would actually hold a bunny. The little girls in his class were a’flutter over the soft! cuddly! bunnies! but he looked at the rabbit cage like we were all drunk for even suggesting this nonsense.

I’m not entirely sure what they bribed him with, but lo & behold, he snuggled a live rabbit.

I’m a little bummed because the photographer captured zero of his personality unlike last time & I really wanted a good bunny picture to put next to the cowboy on the beach picture.

But poor Hibby was feeling the worst ever thanks to a wicked cold & his momma buying CVS brand vapor bath wash. You know that vapor-infused bath wash that is made by Johnson & Johnson? I normally buy the Target knock-off & it is so lovely & soothing. I pour a little in the bathtub & the steam helps the vapors clear him up before he goes to bed. But this time I snagged a CVS version. Bad idea, self. Harrison errupted in a nasty rash all over that was quite painful. Hands, chest, back, face…you name it. A week of Burt’s Bees & Aquaphor later, he’s looking good again but the Leprosy rash is now captured for all eternity.

Even the rabbit is like, “Is his hand going to fall off while he’s holding me? Is this contagious cross-species? Is someone going to come get me?”

 

p.s. because someone will ask – those bunnies are privately loved & owned by the photographer as family pets. they are not from a bunny farm or purchased for the pictures.

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